Rise by Sin
by ChanelAddict
Summary: Orphaned Sookie Stackhouse & Eric Northman find themselves growing up together in the St Jude's children's home. Sookie's path to becoming a nun joins Eric as he becomes a Priest. But do either of them stay that way? *Mature themes throughout.
1. Chapter 1

**Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall"**

_William Shakespeare_

_He grabbed me by the arm, the look of sheer terror and confusion in his eyes as he backed me into the office. _

"_Let me go! I've told you that this is it this is the way it has to be! Why can't you understand that, Eric?" I tried to tell him in a harsh whisper for fear of being heard._

"_I do understand it, I understand that you're scared, Jesus, I am too – you think I don't know what we're risking here?" His eyes softened then, as did his grip on me "Sookie" he gripped my chin gently "Look at me Sookie? Please?" _

_Through tears so thick that I could barely make out his features in front of me, I looked up at him "I can't Eric...I can't"_

"_I love you Sookie."_

_At that confession I felt a shocking jolt through my spine. It's not that I ever thought that he didn't love me, but to hear him say those words out loud and with such conviction, I was a little stunned. _

"_I love you and I want to be free to love you without feeling this shame. The shame is eating at me and I know it's eating at you too ...but Sookie... loving someone isn't wrong and I'm tired of feeling like I'm damned because of it"_

"_We are damned. Eric we broke-"_

"_I know what we did, and Sookie I don't regret it, not for one second. Being with you was something that was so beautiful and right I don't get how you don't see that"_

"_I don't see it Eric because of my vows –"_

"_VOWS you haven't taken yet, vows you aren't bound by YET..."_

"_I swore my life to God Eric and so did you, or did you forget? Just because we haven't taken the final vow yet doesn't mean that we're any less devoted. I can't just abandon my belief just because –"_

"_Because of me? Is that it? You don't want to give up this life for me."_

"_NO! Eric, please don't be this way. You swore to me, you swore we'd made a mistake that we'd never make again no matter what we felt or what we thought we felt! You promised me."_

"_I thought I could, I thought I could just ignore what we did. Ignore it like I've been ignoring it since I was sixteen years old but it's too hard now. I want to be able to turn it off like you can but I can't. And for that I'm sorry."_

They say that the sense of smell is one of the strongest links to our memories, that just one waft of something familiar and suddenly you're hit with a rush of memories each one stronger than the next. I believe this to be very true.

There was always that smell, one that wasn't overpowering but it was in itself extremely distinctive it was something helped to recall dozens of scattered memories within myself. It's one of comfort and peace, in the mind of a child a smell is just a smell, but for one that has outgrown their childhood in such a place, this smell was , it's what they burn during mass or scatter over a coffin during a funeral mass, but it's the smell that I remember most from growing up. Some remember home cooked meals or the smell of their mother's attempts at baking, I remember the smell of the church.

The church was St. Jude's, and we were taken their twice a week to 'repent' for our sins, taken by the group of Catholic nuns – fronted by Sister Geraldine and the small group Sisters that taught in orphanage where I was to spend a dozen or so years of my life.

The orphanage like most things at that was a hard place to be. Not only because we were wards of the state or unwanted children or at the mercy of sometimes slap happy sisters of 'mercy' but because as parentless children a thing such as a 'childhood' wasn't possible. As I knelt down and began my prayers, I couldn't help but think that this church had been my comfort for a long time but would there come a time when prayer and a sense of home wouldn't be enough? I thought I knew what my life had in store for me... it turns out I had no clue what was to come.

It was in September **1945** that I first set eyes on this place. The St Jude's home for parentless children the dark looming grey stone building t**o a seven **year old seemed like a prison, and in some ways, my seven year old self was right. It was. The home sat next to another grey stone building, only this one was beautiful, the church was adorned with stain glass floor to ceiling windows and a spire so tall that it was a struggle to see its tip – at seven and sheltered, it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

The boy to my left, the boy with the ever lengthening limbs and floppy dirty blonde hair was Eric. My Eric, mine in the sense that for as long as I could remember he'd been there with me. Ignoring Sister Alice in math class or helping me make up stories about dragons in creative writing for English for Sister Silvia. Of course it was frowned upon, it always was.

The girls were not meant to mix with the boys unless absolutely necessary. I hated being a girl; it was at age seven nothing but a nuance, it was the age that I was conveniently dropped off at the orphanage by my Uncle Bartlett. After the death of both my parents and with no other living relatives other than my uncle I was at his mercy. He ran a farm outside of Connecticut and claimed he hadn't the 'time, patience, nor money' to waste on a female who would be of no use to him or his business. My brother Jason he decided to keep, on the argument that the boy would one day become a man and take over his business. I was young but I do remember Jason and his tears as he protested and argued with my uncle. He was only nine to my seven but he stood up for me, not that it did him much good. Yes my Uncle disposed of me as if I were the runt of the litter of kittens he'd found on his back porch.

By age eleven being a girl was still the most useless thing to be in my eyes. I wanted to be a boy, they got to wear pants and play in the mud. The girls we were expected to behave as ladies in both the eyes of God and in the eyes of Sister Mary-Francis for she was the eagle eye that watched over every class recess there was. Dresses were to be worn at a certain length, hair was to be braided or tied back at all times or else you got it lopped off. Girls were to read, to be seen and not heard, to never speak until spoken to.

I hated it then.

As we crawled along setting the seeds into the clay for Sister James, who was now too old to do the stooping herself so she picked Eric and I every year, her 'favourite' orphans as she'd call us, to come help her do it. The garden of the convent was always so beautiful and well tended. It hosted an array of plants and flowers each more beautiful than the next. It was also home to the fruit and vegetable patches that provided the Sister's with their nutrients, it also provided Eric and I ample snacks on the strawberries when they came into season. We'd snack on more fruit that we'd have planted seeds for the following season, I told Eric that it was stealing, he of course balked at me and convinced me it wasn't stealing so much as it was payment for all our hard work. Even then it was hard to argue with him.

It was difficult to argue with him but that didn't mean that I didn't, in fact arguing with Eric was one of my favorite past times. He challenged me like no one else and he frustrated me like no one else either! But he was always there for me, and we became fast friends despite our gender, teaching each other silly things like how to tie unbreakable knots in the Sister's shoelaces when we were nine, or how to cheat in math class at 13, or the less so innocent things we did at 16 like breaking out of the dorms to the kitchen and getting drunk on the cooking sherry and teaching each other how to kiss...

"Shh you're going to wake the old biddies up" Eric whispered to be as he gave me a leg up over the iron gates of the back of the building, it led the path to the vegetable garden off the kitchen. The kitchen held the cooking booze, our mission was to break some rules and get drunk.

"You know, most of these women probably want to break out of here and here we are breaking in!"

"Eric, they do not. This is their calling it's something they're fully committed to. Marriage to God an all that. At least that's how Sister Margaret tells it" I shrugged.

"Marriage to God? Is that what keeps their bed warm at night?" He raised his eyebrows at me and it earned him a nudge.

"You hush that's not right"

"I know you're all pro-nun an all Sook, but honestly you think this is the right life? Alone with nothing but prayer to comfort you in the night?"

I didn't answer him "why are we even talking about this now? We're going to get caught if they hear us whispering"

"No they won't" with that he produced the key to the back door that led to the kitchen, I was to stand watch as he rummaged around clinking bottles every few seconds before he emerged with a grin and two bottles "Irish Cream? And ...I guess this is cooking Sherry? Looks horrible but it'll do, come on!"

And with that he led me back out and down around the corners to the scattering of oak trees that led to the graveyard.

"Are we really doing this? If sis-"

"Sookie, weren't you just complaining today that we never get to have any real fun? That we don't behave like 'real' teenagers? Hmm?" He had that smug smile on his lips, I knew he was right and he knew it too "Yes?"

But still I stood with my arms folded "Yes..."

"Ok well this is what they do right? Besides think of how many things we've done tonight that we didn't dare do before! We swiped keys-"

"Stole!"

"Swiped. I fully intend on giving them back, besides she was asleep she won't even notice"

I still stood arms crossed as he took a swig of his bottle. "We broke out of and into an establishment, and yes ok we 'stole' liquor...and now we're going to drink to our little adventure." With that he handed me my bottle.

I couldn't help but smile. He was right it was fun, as scared as I was, it was a rush to do things we knew we weren't allowed to do and he was only doing this before I was the one who wanted some fun. So I bounced down beside him under the tree, checking once again to make sure we were out of sight of any prying eyes. "Ok fine, cheers?"

I took a gulp of the liquor and ugh was it disgusting.

He laughed "Cheers ...and stop worrying, the only people who can see us are the dead, and who are they going to tell?"

With that I laughed too "God, and since Fr Patrick seems to think he's the conduit to all things holy he'd find out and tell Sister Geraldine and then we'd be whipped."

We sat in silence each with our drinks wondering when it would kick in and we'd experience 'drunk' or at least a little change. It took a little while but I started to feel ever so slightly light headed. It was kind of nice, until it wasn't.

"Sookie?" Eric spoke up finally.

"Hmm"

"Do you...do you ever wonder what it would have been like if your parents hadn't have died?"

I looked at him then, but he was staring at his bottle.

"What do you mean? Of course I do, I mean...don't you? It's only natural"

"I know. But if my parent's had lived I'd be back in Sweden and if your parents had lived you'd be back home...we'd have never met."

I'd never thought of it like that before. Even when I fantasized about having my family again, Eric was always somewhere in the equation too.

"True, but we _did_ meet right? And that's what matters. Through bad foster homes, evil ole nuns who are way too slap happy with that leather belt, bad kitchen food, and learning Latin like it's going out of style" I laughed to show him that it was still ok "We had each other right? And you've had your cousin...heck even I have your cousin" She was always writing to Eric but on my birthday or Christmas I'd always get a package of clothes, ones I assumed she'd owned prior but they'd always be in amazing condition and far too fancy for anything I'd ever be needing them for. But it was her thoughts that counted right? And I always appreciated the gesture.

"That's true. But I...I'm just glad to have met you too you know?" He sounded sad, if this is what alcohol did to him, it would the last time I ever encouraged it. I took his hand and slid closer to him allowing him to wrap his arm around my shoulders. Even at sixteen he was tall, but he was skinny lankier more than anything else, but he was warm and sweet and I felt like he needed me close to him then. Whatever was going on in his head was wasn't something I wanted him dwelling on.

"Eric...um...Have you...I mean have you ever..." I got flustered, what was I doing, why was I bringing this up now?

I felt him shift beside me to look down at me "Spit it out Sook."

I inhaled a deep shaky breath "I well, I mean I was just wondering... if you, you know" I was starting to stammer what the hell was wrong with me. Stupid sherry. "I was wonderin' if you'd ever... kissed someone before."

He was silent but a small grin appeared "Why you wondering about that Stackhouse?"

I didn't look at him. I couldn't, I was blushing too much. I felt so red I thought my face would explode.

"It's nothing it's not a big deal, forget I mentioned it." I moved to get up but he just yanked me back down.

"Ouch my butt!"

"Sorry but you can't just bring stuff like that up and then bolt for the hills. Now, why do you ask?"

There was that sarcastic tone in his voice again. He knew fine well why I'd asked. So I just glared at him as I folded my arms "It doesn't matter I think we should get back before Sister wakes up from her nap"

"You know as well as I do that a few swigs of whiskey and she's out till at least 2am ...are you really wanting to know if I've kissed anyone Sookie?"

"Maybe a little? I mean Eric you were gone all summer and I was here and ...you seemed different when you came back"

The foster family that had taken Eric over the summer had taken me the previous spring, they were nice but no one wants to foster an older kid, never mind a teenager. They all want babies for the long haul. So we get carted out every now and then for periods of time, before they decided they like us well enough but they want to keep looking if they can. Yeah its catalogue shopping for kids, who knew.

"Have you?" He asked as he raised that eyebrow at me again; he knew the answer as well as I did. I didn't say it out loud I just shook my head to indicate a 'no'. He smiled.

"You want to?"

I did, but how did I say that out loud?

He shifted up to his knees in front of me, took my chin to tilt my eye level so we were even. His gaze travelled from my eyes to my lips as he licked his own, I remember his breath smelled sweet like the drink he'd just consumed, warm and steady his lips met mine – I froze.

I was tingling from head to toe, I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, and I'm pretty sure my heartbeat could have woken the dead whose yard we were sitting in.

"Breathe Sook, just breathe" he told me in a calm tone that was only as comforting as it was exciting. He closed off the small distance between us, his mouth slightly open as he grazed his lips against mine again, this time lasting a little longer before I felt his tongue swipe across my lips; acting on instinct I opened my mouth ever so slightly crashing my lips to his following his lead.

He was sweet, slow and steady were as I was the opposite. I sucked on his upper lip slightly and moved to his lower lip taking it in a little harder before we resumed our exploration of each other's mouths. It was a rhythm we didn't even know we'd established until he was leaning over me and I was then flat on the grass behind us. I moved to bring his bottom lip gently between my teeth again when he moaned into my mouth gliding his hands that had drew lines up and down my arms seconds before straight to my neck and up into my hair. Feeling his large hands take me so completely to him earned him a moan I didn't even recognise coming from myself. I felt dizzy but I never wanted it to stop, the all over tingling had stopped but there was a deeper throbbing in the pit of my stomach, emptiness below that I didn't know existed.

With that Eric lost whatever hold he hand on his balance and crashed against me, hard. I didn't stop him as his hands slid down my neck and over my breast; I was too consumed with the sensation of his lips suddenly moving from my lips to my neck. From my neck to my earlobe and back down again he continued murmuring something about 'beautiful' and 'so soft' though all I could really hear was the sound of both of us almost panting for air.

That's when I heard the cough.

Eric froze. I froze.

"Mr Northman, Ms Stackhouse...Please detangle from each other and face me please" Said the mystery voice. Mystery voice then cleared his throat as we did as he asked.

Awkward doesn't even cover it.

"Now, you two care to explain ...this?" He gestured to the bottles and what he interrupted.

"Father Brigant this is my fault" Eric began as he tucked in his shirt while I still couldn't look either of them in the eye.

"Is that so? And you Ms Stackhouse? What was your role in all of this?" I finally looked up to see him standing there with a somewhat bemused look on his face, arms crossed over his dressing gown and the keys to the kitchen in his hands.

"I...Uh...I..."

"Right you two, my office now if you please"

I looked at Eric, he looked at me, and we both knew we were screwed. Fr Brigant walked ahead of us quietly neither Eric or I could find the words to break that silence.

His office smelled of old books and coffee. He took his seat behind his desk and gestured for us to take the seats opposite.

"One of you had better explain this to me, no lies you hear me?"

I finally found my voice, I still felt dizzy and a little weak but this time I knew Eric wasn't the cause. I think the alcohol finally hit me.

"Fr this is my fault. I was the one who ...suggested to Eric that we do something fun I mean I didn't suggest THIS but ...at the same time I didn't _not_ suggest this so this is really all my fault and it's not his really Fr so please if you're going to punish us don't...Punish me." I rambled without air. This time the Fr just looked amused.

"How old are you Ms Stackhouse?"

"I...I'm sixteen."

"And you Mr Northman?"

"Almost eighteen sir"

With that the Fr just let out a 'humph' sound.

"So both of you being old enough to know better you still ...Broke out of your dorms? Broke INTO a convent no less – to steal. Drinking underage and ...what looked to be the beginning stages of premarital sex!"

"Hey, NO! That's wasn't ...Fr that wasn't what it was at all" Eric spoke up in our defence. Even though I thought in my drunken state that what the Fr had said was completely on the money.

"It wasn't?"

"No. It was just..." But Eric, who was many things – a good friend, a stealth thief when it came to cooking alcohol, a maths wiz and as I discovered tonight- an excellent kisser. He was all these things, but he was also a lousy liar. So, he stopped talking, knowing that he'd be lying and not wanting to get us both into any more trouble.

"Look, kids" Fr Brigant spoke finally, his voice softening somewhat. "I know that at your age ...things ..._Urges._"

I cringed.

Eric sighed.

"These urges are there and while they aren't necessarily wrong...they have to be squashed. You two are good kids, why on earth you haven't found parents ...well that is their problem not yours. You're both smart and decent ...and smart and decent people do NOT go around stealing from nuns and feeling each other up in front of the dead!" he exclaimed. "You are both extremely lucky it was me who discovered you and NOT Sister Geraldine, you know she'd have both your hides for this."

He looked at us both then. "The company line is 'sex before marriage is a sin' 'stealing is a sin' 'copulation on the grounds of the dead ...is I'm sure also a sin' so...there I've done my bit haven't I?"

We both nodded.

"Ms Stackhouse you may go"

"No Fr really it wasn't Eric it was me if you have to-"

With that Eric braced my shoulders and looked me in the eye.

"Sookie...I'll be fine"

"No ...But-"

"Go, before sister wakes up and ole Geraldine really does have us whipped"

I looked across to the Fr and back to Eric. It was a lost battle so I simply nodded and made my way outside.

I didn't know it then but what was talked about in that room would be the beginnings of change none of us could have imagined.

**A/N: Hey guys, not an update (if this shows up again) just replacing the screwed up layout of the first attempt at posting. My noob was showing. Hopefully this looks a little better? **


	2. Chapter 2

A/N *Peeks out from behind the curtain* Well hello! I wasn't expecting anyone to read this in all honesty! So all the little alerts and reviews were a lovely surprise! Thank you for adding me to alerts and thank you even harder for clicking that little button to review! I know some people (myself at times included) can be a little review shy… It's like "I like this but how do I say it!" so thank you again for trying.

I'm going to shut up, on to the angst. I need to set these babies up so on with the build up ;)

**Chapter2**

EPOV:

I remember my first day at the orphanage. How foreign it was to me in more ways than one. How wrong it was, how huge it was, and just how alone I felt. My parents had been killed in plane crash in Sweden the year before, I'd been sent to live with my aunt and her daughter in America and was doing just fine until she was taken too, this time from a heart attack. My cousin and only other surviving relative, Pamela was a year younger than me and just as much on her own as I had been a year before. Pamela's father agreed to take her; he took her and her alone, to live with him and his new wife in New York City. His new wife had no use for boys and Pam was to become her own living Barbie doll. Or so her letters every month told me. For me there was no New York, they decided that I'd become a ward of the state and be placed in the St Jude's home for parentless children in Louisiana. I was never what you would have called a quiet child, growing up as an only child and having my parents sole attention and surrounded mostly by adults it allowed me to be spoiled and rather mature for my age.

I had been in the orphanage for almost a year when I saw her. Well, at first I didn't so much see _her, _as I did her long blonde hair bouncing in the sunshine, a white sundress and black shoes with white ankle socks finished off her angelic look. I questioned why a girl like that would put in a place like this. After being rejected from my uncle in favour of a girl to dote on it seemed like this girl would be in and out of the orphanage in no time at all.

I on the other hand was stubborn to a fault. Foster families had shown interest in me alright but I had no interest in them. When I first arrived I was extremely closed off, which over the years I realised was the natural reaction to being abandoned and placed in a place like this. I kept to myself and for the first six months I don't think I spoke more than two words the entire time. The days were all the same, you woke up at six am for prayer. By seven you were across the street washed and dressed and inline for Mass, by eight it was confessions and by nine you were in your place for schooling. Recess was a twenty minutes and lunch lasted an hour. In that hour you were brought into the lunching room with all the other children and fed the basics of whatever wasn't moulded that day. It wasn't exciting, it wasn't bright or cheerful.

I was almost nine, but I had only been living with my aunt and cousin for year before everything changed. My English wasn't the best and it made me extremely self conscious, well that and I guess I just didn't have anything to say to these people. The families that had taken an interest in me soon gave up since I didn't make it easy on them. I was the foreign kid who never spoke, they thought I was mute at first then they thought I was retarded, and then they thought I was just plain crazy.

But not her.

One classroom held 3 different age groups. All in rows by our age and class. I knew I was almost two years older than her so she would be on the end with her age group where as I would be placed on the opposite end. I saw her being walked in my Sister Sylvia, her head hung low as she faced the ground, her arms crossed, her body language screamed 'leave me alone'. I knew that feeling all too well. As the Sister said her name and made the class say hello, she still never lifted her head instead taking her seat and opening her book as directed.

Like most newbie's, it took her a couple of weeks to get the hang of the place, by that time we'd been partnered for art on more than one occasion. We never spoke a word, to each other or to those around us, but we worked well.

It was at recess that she finally spoke to me, I sat in my usual place under the tree just to the left of the playground. She stomped over and took her seat next to me.

"Are you retarded?"

I raised by brow at her, wondering if she was serious. I didn't answer.

"Well are ya? Those girls said they think you're retarded, it's why you don't talk none. I said that I didn't think that, I just think you're quiet is all." Her accent was thick and extremely southern, something she grew out of but the lilt was still present.

"I'm not retarded." I said simply.

She nodded and sat back further leaning against the tree. "Are you crazy?"

"No? Are YOU?"

She laughed. She was a strange girl, even then her reactions to things differed so much from other people I'd known.

"Well, that's good to know. I'm Sookie by the way"

Yeah like I didn't know that. But I remembered she was southern and that manners and charm meant a lot to them.

"I know."

"So why don't you talk?"

"I'm talking to you aren't I?"

"Well, yeah, 'cept it's mostly me dragging the answers out of you. How 'bout you ask me something?"

I sighed.

"Like what?"

With that she rolled her eyes and scooted closer to me. "Well I don't know genius, think of something anything!"

I thought of stupid things, like her favourite colour, her favourite snack silly things that just got her talking. I liked it when she'd talk and she did. Recess every day thereafter became our talking time. I knew she was probably as lonely as I was, and the older kids picked on her too calling her 'crazy Sookie' because instead of hurling insults or bulling she just shrugged and plastered an extremely awkward smile on her face and walked away, no matter what they said to hurt her. I'd always admired that, no matter how fuming she was she'd never let it show.

The night Father Brigant caught us kissing, I mean embarrassing doesn't cover it at all. I wasn't yet eighteen and my experience with women was almost non-existent. That summer I'd been fostered by an extremely religious family, the Newlins. They were a nice enough couple, they had one daughter and an adopted son.

The daughter was like Sookie in many resects. She was sweet and small, blonde and curious.

Unlike Sookie she wasn't shy about what she wanted. And that summer, it was like I was her project.

Her father had fostered me for many reasons. The cheque from the state helped I'm sure, as did my build when it came to helping on their ranch. He wouldn't have taken me in had he realised the crush his angelic baby girl had on me.

When Sookie asked me if I'd kissed someone, I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to lie to her, and if I said no I would have been lying. I knew I was a withdrawn kid, particularly when it came to total strangers, Sarah Newlin knew this and she knew it the day she threw herself at me in their barn. I was a teenage boy and there was a girl feeling me up and letting me touch her, who was I to say no?

The whole time she kept touching me and allowing me to palm her breasts. I knew she didn't want to stop it there either. And, truth be told, neither did I.

But then I thought of Sookie, and how it was her I wanted to be touching and not this girl who I barely knew. No matter how hard I concentrated when I closed my eyes, she smelled differently and it just felt wrong. So I stopped her before we got to where she was wanting us to go.

Of course this wounded her pride, and in a huff she stormed off and told her snitch of a bother - Steve- that I'd been the one that had tried to force myself on her.

Needless to say I was sent back with a swift kick.

So when Sookie asked, I didn't answer. Instead turning it on her, I knew she hadn't been that way with any boy, she told me everything. It was one of the many things I could always count on with Sookie, her honestly just came pouring out of her. When she let me kiss her for the first time, it felt strange. A good strange, but still strange. This was _my _Sookie, and while I was sure that my feelings from 'friend' to 'you grew breasts and now I can't stop thinking about them' were a change I was never sure if she looked at me any different as I did her.

So when her mouth met mine all I could think about was having her completely. I didn't want to stop at just a kiss, I needed to know her - all of her. For a girl that had never kissed a boy before she sure as hell knew how to push the right buttons. She was gentle but firm, she completely explored me with her tongue, as I did her, eliciting tiny moans from her that I didn't know existed. In that moment she was pure desire, and all from a simple make out session on a patch of grass.

However, getting reprimanded by Father Brigant was a metaphorical cold shower if ever there was such a thing. We were lucky that it was him and not one of the more stern Sisters though. Sister Geraldine caught Andre Anderson just looking at a girl in what she deemed 'a immoral manner' and he got dragged up to the front of the class and she whipped him with her cane 13 times for being impure. I shudder to think what she'd have done if she had cause me on top of Sookie like that, with my hands on her breasts. I'd wager to say we'd be dead, or at the very least wishing we were when she was done with us.

He clasped his hands together and sat further back in his chair.

"Eric, you know that this behaviour won't be tolerated here don't you?"

I nodded.

"Father, I am sorry. I mean we really meant no harm to anyone and I would have never…It was just a kiss"

"Eric, I'm a old man compared to you and I'm old enough to know that when it comes to women, a kiss is never _just_ a kiss boy."

I sat in silence, at the time I felt like he was just being an interfering old bat who knew nothing of what he saw.

"Eric the reason I asked you to hang back is because I have a proposition for you. I've seen your grades over the years from the school, you're a smart kid. Extremely well read considering English isn't even your mother tongue."

"I read because it helped with that…With the English."

And if I kept my head in a book no one would bother me.

"And it has, unless I knew your history I don't think I'd be able to really tell."

"Thank you?"

He pursed his lips as if he was thinking on what to say next.

"Eric, you know I partake in the missionaries don't you? It involves some travel, and a lot of grafting, there are people in need out there Eric and they need smart capable men to help."

I could almost see the thoughts forming in his head before he said them.

"I …Father no offence but I don't think that I'm-"

"I won't force you Eric, but think of your options. You're out of here in a matter of months anyway, do you have an alternative to step into? College isn't an option without the money or a scholarship - which I see you haven't applied for. So what is it exactly that you plan on doing?"

He had a valid point, what exactly did I think was going to happen as soon as I was no longer a 'ward' of the state.

"What would I be doing exactly?"

"Helping people. It's most humanitarian work, bringing aid and helping where it's needed most…and or course helping to spread the positives of faith in our Lord"

"So I'd be a bible banger?"

That got a chuckle from the dear seemingly demented Father "Not at all Eric. Simply assist me in my work, experience the joys in helping others…you never know you might find a purpose for that life of yours somewhere on our travels!"

"Father, with all due respect…And I do respect you, and I do believe in God and in the power of faith …to a certain extent. Which is why I don't think I'd be the best man for the job."

"Mr Northman, I think that's what makes you perfect for the job."

Brigant was right there I was, an orphan educated by nuns and raised in a children's home, what were my options after I turned eighteen? Pam told me in one of her letters that I could go stay with her and her dad and his wife, but I couldn't do that forever and despite having nothing to my name, I still had my pride. And it was my pride that niggled away at me this last few months, it was my pride that new that I'd have to do something to prove myself in this world. I wasn't just an orphaned or someone to be discarded like the trash on the street. I had things to offer the world and if that meant going with Niall and attempting to help people like they helped me? Then so be it. My faith in god wasn't as strong as Sookie's faith in 'him', she had this unwavering sense of there being someone out there looking out for us. I told her a dozen times that it was nonsense, a scare tactic used by the evil nuns and priests to keep us all in line. She insisted that I should have faith, and that the whole point in having faith in something was believing in it, even when no one else did, believing in it when you couldn't prove it or see it. The point was to believe, no matter what.

But in doing that also meant that I would be leaving her behind. How did I do that? The girl who'd been my only consistent friend since I was a little kid.

"So that's it? That's all you have to say? You're leaving and that's it." Her eyes welled up as she looked at me, her anger and sadness evident in her voice.

"Sook. I have to go. I mean I'd have to go away, you know that. But at least this way I'm out there doing something, I'd be learning how to live Sookie, and helping people AND spreading the word of …God. Isn't that a good thing?" I admit I preyed on her faith hoping she'd embrace her forgiving side more quickly.

Sadly this was the girl who knew me better than anyone. "That's horse shit Eric and you know it! You're doing this because you're scared! You think I don't know that!"

Sookie never cursed, in fact I didn't even think she knew how. "Sookie please understand"

"I don't want to understand Eric. I mean I'm tired of understanding why everyone…" with that she let her tears finally fall. And it broke my heart right were I stood.

"Why everyone ends up leaving me."

I didn't know what to say and she just rolled her eyes at me and walked into the classroom. She tried her best to calm herself down, but old Geraldine picked up on right away. It was like blood to shark.

"Is there a problem Ms Stackhouse?"

"No Sister no problem." She gathered her books and attempted to find the page. I watched her from across the room, just wanting to hold her and tell her that everything would be fine. But I knew I couldn't because I knew it wouldn't be fine.

SPOV :

"Is there a problem Ms Stackhouse?"

"No Sister no problem." I replied trying my best to blink the tears away, taking silent breaths in an attempt to calm myself.

"Then why the tears Ms Stackhouse?

"No reason Sister I just…Don't feel well." Understatement of the century.

"Is that so" she replied in a smug tone that alerted me to the fact that the classroom had now filled and everyone was looking in my direction, including Eric. "Well Ms Stackhouse feeling well or not there will be no tears in my classroom do you understand? Tears are for the weak, those who cannot get a handle on their own emotions. And we as people are no better than the animals if we allow our most primitive of emotions to take us over, isn't that right?"

She was right in front of me now as she whispered - loudly enough so the rest of the class would hear "Just because your little _boyfriend_ is abandoning you it is no reason to cause a scene. Honestly you'd think you'd be used to being left high and dry, you've had enough practice at it." she sneered coldly.

I felt the blood rushing to my ears, and the blush in my cheeks expand to my neck.

"He's n-not my boyfriend" I whispered.

"Ah, so it is about Mr Northman then. Typical. The two of you waltz around here like you're the bee's knees and you honestly expect us to believe that you aren't whoring yourself out to each other…Tell me Ms Stackhouse, if he's not the boyfriend, are you simply his _whore?_"

With that I burst out crying and I heard Eric erupt from the other end of the room.

"What the hell is your problem! How dare you talk to her like that!" I heard Eric yell from across the room. This of course enraged the good Sister, I swear steam came from her ears.

"MR NORTHMAN YOU WILL REFRAIN FROM RAISING YOUR VOICE IN THAT MATTER. SIT DOWN AND SHUT YOUR MOUTH"

Hypocritical much? Eric remained calmer than her considering he didn't yell like she did. Instead he stood up. His height even then towering over her.

"I will not. Unlike most people in this room, I'm not afraid of you. How can you stand there, preaching the word of God and Jesus when all you ever do is berate and insult and humiliate people, just because you can."

"Mr Northman, get out of my class do you hear me"

"Oh I hear you, I think the cows at the Stateline can hear you. But hear _me_, you will not talk to her like that again. Sookie is ANYTHING but a whore. Mine or anyone's. She's a good decent person. Which is a lot more than can be said for you!" With that he chanced a look at me before storming out of the classroom slamming the door behind him for effect.

Needless to say this didn't go over well. I got three months detention and six slaps of the whip to my back. The scars, both inside and out were really beginning to build up by this point.


	3. Chapter 3

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